


Rewards

by ConfessionForAnotherTime



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Awkward Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs, M/M, Rewards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 12:16:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3810052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConfessionForAnotherTime/pseuds/ConfessionForAnotherTime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>churbooseanon asked: Sarge rewarding Wash for the feat of getting BOTH armies to beat up Grif.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rewards

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Churbooseanon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Churbooseanon/gifts).



“Simmons! Help me!” Grif’s cries could be heard all the way to the other side of the Armonia headquarters. Simmons looked up from helping sort ammunition with Lopez and Donut after requisitions closed for the day. Grif’s screams for help only lasted as long as he could run, which turned out to not be all that far, ending with muffled thuds from fists and boots connecting with armor. “Guys come on!” The armor kept him padded from much of the impact of the blows and he curled in on himself out of reflex.

Word traveled quickly of the soldiers turning on Captain Grif so quickly after being run to the ground by Agent Washington. Led by the Lieutenants, they quickly dispatched Grif, sending him back to the other Captains with a few bruises, though none were as bad as the blow his ego took from the beating. Sarge delighted in knowing that Grif had been beaten, even if not by his hand or because of something he ordered, yet he was over the moon. He immediately wondered how Agent Washington had devised such a feat. He must have found a way to pay off the Lieutenants or put out a rallying cry. He needed to learn Washington’s secret.

“Agent Washington, I have to say I’m impressed. It’s always been a dream to watch Grif die, but hearing he got the crap beaten out of him still brings a tear to my eye. It’s like the Officer’s Ball!” Sarge patted Wash on the back enthusiastically, voice full of mirth. “The Officer’s Ball is what I call when I bring the Warthog in and Grif rolls around from where I hit him. Heh heh.”

“Sarge, that can’t be the only reason you came by. Is besting Grif all you really care about?” Wash looked up from his battle rifle, still in disbelief that this conversation was even happening.

“Well, causing Grif pain is a huge joy of mine. Congrats on that. I should pay you back somehow. I could probably get my hands on some food, maybe a beer or two. Could probably even get someone to cover your patrols. There’s this nice tree behind the base that we could sit by…” Sarge trailed off as Wash stared.

“Are you asking me on a date?” Wash had stopped cleaning his rifle at this point and turned his full attention on the Colonel.

“A date? Marvelous bubbling effervescence, no. I’m offering to feed you lunch and reward you for a job well done. Why in Sam Hell would you think this is a date? Is there something I don’t know about you Washington?” Wash could feel the squint through the visor and let his shoulders drop in a sigh.

“No. Just, the way you--- Nevermind. Beer and lunch sounds great.”

\---

“Sarge.” Wash’s voice came out breathy, barely able to hold it in.

“Shut up.”

“Sarge.” The last letter came out as a whine.

“I said shut up!” Sarge slapped his hand against the metal greaves of his armor to hush him.

“You do not have to give me a blowjob to thank me.” Wash’s eyes slipped closed at this point, groaning.

“Shut up!”


End file.
